The cool sadness is the worst. The near lack of feelings, the emptiness. You’d think that would be preferable to a veil of tears, but no. It’s like a capped bottle that life keeps shaking. It’s bound to burst, spewing a frothy flow over everything. For now, it’s kept in.Friends pat your back and ask if everything’s OK. Yes. And no. It’s the cool sadness that disturbs everyone. Like a painting, a locked little smile, thin lips, maintain.Nothing tastes good. Eat, drink, walk, talk. Maintain. Everyone expects it. The banter, the smart-assed wisecracks, the one-liners.It helps, being normal – or as normal as it gets. Function, find things to do. Don’t rush to any judgments. Not quite yet.Give this place a chance. At least for the next few months. Talk it out. Recycle back into the world.

Yeah, really, we don't like stuff that disturbs us, so if you'd ditch the cool sadness and get back to the normal smart-ass wisecracks and banter, we'd all feel a lot better ... and then we wouldn't keep asking you if everything's okay.

Oh yeah, and listen to us, even though we totally contradict each other sometimes.

:)

Bottom line - everything you do is the right thing to do at the time you're doing it. Whether it hinders or helps your progression, might be another story, but it's the right thing at the time you're doing it.

Thom Gabrukiewicz is both a communicator and a writer of flash fiction. Most of what he writes is kind of dark, with occasional forays into the light.
He’s a winner of some awards and has covered two Winter Olympics. He’s also written a guidebook about hiking with dogs.
He’s fiercely loyal and has a malevolent side that seems to visit less and less. He’s both a hopeless romantic and a realist.
He's currently working on community wellness issues in Wyoming.